Global warming becomes real: A look at the looming beer crisis


I try not to be too much of a global warming preacher. In my personal life, I recycle, walk a lot, take public transportation, and generally do everything in my power to reduce my energy usage. However, there are few things that annoy me more than holier-than-thou eco-Nazis, and I decided a long time ago that I would never, ever become one of them. I refuse to lecture people about light bulbs, yell at them for throwing away recyclables, make snotty comments when they keep the fridge open for too long, or pick up any of the other endearing little habits that dedicated green warriors seem inclined to inflict upon the rest of us.

Part of the reason that I don't like talking about global warming is the fact that it's somewhat difficult to explain its effects. Frankly, there seems to be a rejoinder for every argument against global warming: as people often point out, summers that are a couple of degrees hotter don't seem like that much of a big deal, unless you're a kid or a really old person. For that matter, while rising water due to the destruction of the polar icecaps will be a really big problem for people in coastal regions, most of the world isn't coastal. Beyond that, the death of thousands of different species of aquatic life isn't really all that big a deal, unless you're a really big fan of fish; for the rest of us, there will always be cows, chickens, pigs, deer, and other land-based life forms that we can consume.

However, I recently discovered something that beautifully illustrates the dangers of global warming, a far-reaching, catastrophic problem that affects every one of us, and my just be the key to explaining why green living is so important: